how-to-stop-an-exploding-man

2

i think i just saw heaven

  • Lance: Keith told me you are a leap child. Does that mean-
  • Shiro: That time is a human concept that doesn't affect how our body behaves? That Earth doesn't care where the sun rises first and last? That the sun was rising and setting long before humans decided to start counting how many times it happened before the ground was too cold for farming? And that it will keep rising and setting even when all the clocks stop and all the calendars are burned, until the sun explodes in a super nova, eating our solar system with it? That, despite being born in a day that happens only ever 4 years in our fragile system, my body and mind still grew normally, completely unaware that my birthday technically didn't happen, and so I'm still older then you? That in the end it doesn't matter, for we all will have the same end, embraced in the cold arms of death?
  • Lance: ... you know what nevermind holy shi t

HEY

DO YOU LIKE WEAPONS?

HOW ABOUT WEAPONS SO OP YOUR EYES MELT FROM WHAT-THE-FUCKERY???

WELL THEN BOY HOWDY DO I HAVE A SHOW FOR YOU.

RWBY IS ABOUT FIGHTING AWESOME SHIT WITH AWESOME SHIT.

FIRST CASE IN POINT: RUBY AND CRESCENT ROSE.

NOT ONLY IS THIS SCYTHE LIKE SEVEN FEET LONG AND DEADLY AS FUCK ON ITS OWN, IT’S ALSO A HIGH-IMPACT SNIPER RIFLE:

CAN YOU SAY OVERKILL?

ONTO CULPRIT NUMBER TWO: BLAKE AND THE GAMBOL SHROUD

FIRST OFF, THEY’RE A SWORD AND SHEATH, BUT THEN…

IT’S ALSO A WHIP. THAT IS ALSO A GUN. ALLOWING HER TO DO SHIT LIKE THIS:

WHAT THE FUCK, MAN. THREE WEAPONS IN ONE. HOW DO YOU NOT SHOOT YOURSELF BY ACCIDENT.

NEXT UP: SUN AND NYOI BO

SO IT’S A STAFF. ALRIGHT, COOL. BUT DID YOU KNOW IT EXPLODES?

AND IT DOESN’T STOP THERE, KIDS. THIS MOTHERFUCKER DETACHES AND TURNS INTO WHAT YOU THINK ARE NUNCHUCKS…

AND TECHNICALLY, YES, THEY ARE USED MUCH LIKE NUNCHUCKS, BUT THESE NUNCHUCKS ARE LITERALLY MADE OUT OF GODDAMNED SHOTGUNS. SUN YOU’VE GOT FOUR SHOTGUNS ON A CHAIN WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING SIR.

AND NEXT WE HAVE OUR CHARACTER BASED OFF OF THOR, WHO FITTINGLY HAS THE HARDEST HITTER OF THEM ALL: NORA AND MANGHILD

NOT ONLY IS THIS THING A FUCKING GIANT WARHAMMER,

IT TURNS INTO A FUCKING GRENADE LAUNCHER THAT ALSO FUNCTIONS AS A CANNON

IT ALSO SHOOTS WHILE IN HAMMER FORM, GIVING HER THE ABILITY TO DO THIS SHIT:

BLAST HERSELF AT THE GROUND AT DIZZYING FORCE AND SMASH INTO THINGS LIKE A PINK PINWHEEL OF DEATH AND DESTRUCTION

AND THOSE ARE JUST THE MOST OVER THE TOP WEAPONS I CAN THINK OF

THERE IS INFINITE MORE AWESOMENESS IN THE SHOW, LIKE A PURSE THAT IS ALSO A GATLING GUN:

I HAVENT EVEN SCRATCHED THE SURFACE WITH THIS POST BUT GO WATCH RWBY ITS FUCKIN GREAT

We dream of hope, we dream of change, of fire, of love, of death. And then it happens; the dream becomes real, and the answer to this quest, this need to solve life’s mysteries finally shows itself like the glowing light of the new dawn. So much struggle for meaning, for purpose. And in the end, we find it only in each other. Our shared experience of the fantastic and the mundane. The simple human need to find a kindred. To connect. And to know in our hearts… that we are not alone.
—  Mohinder Suresh in How To Stop An Exploding Man (Heroes 1x23)
BTS REACT TO YOU RAPPING (25 Days of Bangtan: Day 5)

NamJoon:

“Trying to mock me huh? This calls for a punishment don’t you think”

Originally posted by ygnj

Seolkjin;

“Jagi, why are you so good at everything. Stop being a JungKook”

Originally posted by jjks

Yoongi:

“Good girl, you learned from the best”

Originally posted by bwiseoks

Hoseok:

“God you’re perfect for me”

Originally posted by sweaterpawsjimin

Jimin:

“I wanna join in! *proceeds to embarrass himself*”

Originally posted by chimcheroo


Taehyung:

“Yes girl get it! Work that invisible microphone!”

Originally posted by fy-taekook

Jungkook:

*just sits there staring in awe at how cute you look trying to be gangster*

Originally posted by donewithjeon

Lost & Found - Teaser

Clara stopped in front of the router, only to realize that the device seemed utterly foreign to her. She didn’t know a thing about how it worked or what she was supposed to do with it. Not to mention that it wasn’t even her own house and she was afraid of breaking something.
“Well, I’m at the router now,” she said, “It looks… intact.”
“Intact?” the man laughed at her.
“Well, it looks like a router should look like, I suppose. It hasn’t exploded or anything.”
He chuckled. “You don’t know much about that stuff, do you?”
“Not really my area of expertise, no, but I know the whole Jane Austen biography. You can quiz me on that.”
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife,” John quoted and suddenly the sound of his deep, gravelly voice in combination with his accent made Clara shiver. She felt herself blush. Did he really have to quote her favourite author, exploiting the one weakness she had?
“You know Jane Austen?” she asked, smiling to herself. Why was she feeling nervous all of a sudden? Because a strange man on the phone, who, by the way, had a damn erotic voice, quoted one of her favourite books?


I have planned out the rest of the chapters for “All Good Things” now and I’m afraid you’re going to have to wait about 10 more days for my next Whouffaldi fic, but that doesn’t mean I can’t give you a cute teaser in the meantime ;)

Today, I fucked up by forgetting to watch my language at airport security.

When going through airport security today (international flight), I was randomly selected for additional screening, and the TSA officer brought me over to a side table, looked at me and said,

“sir I’m just going to open your bag and take a swab now okay.”

If this has happened to anyone else before, I’m sure you know when a security officer says that to you, you immediately think about whats in your bag. I’m a law abiding citizen, so I had nothing to worry about, but I instantly remembered how full I had stuffed my carry on bag with clothes, shoes, etc.. when I was packing. Without thinking, I uttered the words:

“Ya no problem, It might explode though haha”

The officers hands stopped unzipping it and he slowly looked up at me with a very serious glare. It suddenly dawned on me I had just told this man that my carry on bag was going to explode.

I quickly explained what I had actually meant (that it was very full of clothes, likely to spill everywhere)

He was a nice guy, we ended up having a bit of a chuckle, I will now be more careful with my choice of words in such situations.

TIFU: Internet`s best fucked up stories are here. | credit

@foreverendevor replied to your post “Please, Stop / Mitsuhide x MC”

*siiiighhh* Lovely piece. Can I suggest an edit though? The first few “please, oh please” say “please, of please.” I assume the “of” should be “oh?”

OH HOLY SHIIIIIIIIII————–

Man, thank you so much for bringing it to my attention. You have no idea how many times I’ve edited this piece, and my brain STILL didn’t pick up on it. My perennial tight ass would have exploded if I had discovered that later, so thank you, thank you, thank you. Doesn’t it just make you seethe when that happens? No? Just me?… LOL.

Here, Sailor Moon’s heart transformer thingy-whatsit is yours. I’m very grateful. Have a motherfracking fantastic weekend, friend. 

Originally posted by heartcoma

Jurassican

(A story written in Villier’s Park, 2017)

Prompt: Three characters (of your choice) are at a bus stop. As a bus begins to pull up, it explodes. The story could end or begin with the explosion.

“But think about it!” Chris tailed after Til, who was sipping on her coffee with as much ferocity a five-foot-three nineteen year old could muster. “Dinosaurs in robot armour, how cool would that be?” Til took another angry sip. “Oh hey! That reminds me of a joke, wanna here it?”
Til didn’t bother answering him as she took a seat at the bus stop, nodding politely to the older man already sitting there. Chris would tell his joke and he would laugh and she would be left frustrated (with him for making the joke and for herself for befriending the odd ginger giant. Now she was stuck with him.)
“Okay, okay. So do you think dinosaurs could get any cooler?” Til rolled her eyes. You bet Jurassic-an! Ha!“ He snapped his fingers into a finger gun and pointed them at her, as if waiting for an explosion of laughter.
He got an explosion.
Til fell from her seat on to the ground. A bus nearby had burst into flames, knocking Chris off his feet and on to his face.
She winced as she pushed herself up. She coughed as a wave of smoke hit her, and then again, louder, as the older man’s foot connected with her ribs.
Looking up, her eyes met with the barrel of a gun as he smiled sweetly down at her.
"Now, you’re going to stay down there until the emergency services arrive, and when they do, you won’t remember a thing about me. You don’t my face, there was never another person here, I don’t exist. And if you do, well. You’re going to end up like your friend over there.”
Her friend -her idiotic, boisterous, comedy loving friend- was lying face down on the ground about five feet away, a large thin shard of metal jammed through his back.

One Night at Flumpty’s HeadCanon:

Flumpty’s ‘friends’ are more or less like his slaves. “Flumpty does not have the best social Skills” so this would be one way for him to make 'friends’. The creator even said Flumpty buried BBB and Kevin Jr. in one of the comics the creator and his friends made that originally had the characters in it. 

BBB, The Red Man, Grunkfuss and the rest were all probably humans at one point, meant to die, but Flumpty “saved them" and made them look how they did at death and gave them immortality and powers that went along with their deaths and none of them want to die.
Flumpty is immune to the plot and can screw with time and space if he wants so if they angered him, or simply he just gets bored, his 'friends’ could would stop breathing for no reason or explode and die then live again just because that’s what he feels like doing.
Flumpty does what he does because he feels like it. He can do what he wants, when he wants, and how he wants because he can and knows no one would believe you if you said you were abducted by a giant living egg.

Can shit stop going wrong? I mean I realize it’s not huge compared to a lot of problems, but these little things keep rapid firing and I’m getting maxed out on stress.

Outside of what you already know, my beans exploded in my bag last night, so half my dinner was gone. Mark unknowingly ate the sausages I was saving. Last night I made the mistake of accepting help from an old man in Home Depot cuz I thought he’d be nice, but he just spent 10m kvetching about how fucking ruined my 80 year old screw I was looking to replace in my 80 year old chair was. Like, dude, I heard you the first fucking time, and why the fuck do you think I’m here? He asked me how long I needed it, and I told him again, I need the exact screw, and he seemed put out measuring it, but I mean there was a ruler there, I could’ve measured it myself. You offered to help, I wasn’t looking for it, or you, so if you didn’t want to offer me help, IDK, ignore me? I got the wooden buttons for the finishing part of the chair, but guess what, I measured wrong and it was 1/16 of an inch off, so I needed to reorder them (not expensive but annoying).

Not to mention Mark injuring himself which was terrible, but added onto that IU have to drive everywhere, which isn’t his fault, but it’s just one more thing.

Now, I just dropped my new phone which I was forced to get with T-Mobile, cuz Sprint is acting like Mark didn’t exist in the USA for the past two years, so fucking yay. It caused physical damage to the metal casing (ugh) cuz it hit the pavement after spinning out of my hand when getting out of the car. Fucking asshole phone. Now Mark is calling to see if this will be a problem in the future again or if this counts as “cosmetic damage.”

pendulum

He’s pretty sure that he’s losing it.

It’s hard to think when you’re upside down, he thinks in delirious amusement as he swings back and forth by his ankles. There is no time anymore, no clock or sunlight to tell him how long he’s been here, swinging  like a human pendulum that never stops. It’s always the same, back and forth and back again. Time never moving but moving too fast. The hours, the minutes, the seconds ticking away like a time bomb ready to explode with no warning. Just a man strung up like an animal for the slaughter. Just another body ready for harvest.

He just wants to go home.

But where is home? Is it the Ark? The place that took away his mother and stole his sister from under the floorboards. Is it the drop ship? The place where he lost eighteen of his people (eighty two alive) and fought battles that he had no right to fight. Or maybe it’s Camp Jaha? The place where he stood with his arm around Raven, comforting her but not like he did that night so long ago, while one of their own was strung to a tree while their leader slid a knife into him. A sacrifice. One that he couldn’t do, no, he’s not brave like her.

He’s not brave at all.

Not like her, anyways. He can’t always make the hard choices but he can stand by her when she does. Protect her. (he’d do anything for her)  And right now he’s in here, strung up like some sort of sick piñata, and she’s out there. They are all out there, outside of this room. They were counting on him and he failed. One job, Bellamy, you had one job. You wanted to be the inside man. Now you’re the upside down man.

He’s definitely losing it.

There are voices coming. He flinches because whatever they already did to him obviously isn’t the worst thing on his agenda today. That’ll probably be death. Slow and painful, drained of everything. Fucking Lincoln goes through his head over and over because it’s easier to blame someone else when he knows damn well that he’s the one to blame.

He’s never been strong enough.

The voices are closer now, he can make out three of them, and why do they sound so familiar? Not the voice of the crazy doctor that shoved something in his mouth before pulling the trigger. Not the creepy pale white face of some asshole that has definitely never seen the light of day. No, these voices are closer than ever and only one of them he knows almost as well as his own.

She came for him.

Saying he didn’t doubt that she would is a lie because that’s all he’s done since he’s been here. Doubt himself, doubt their people, doubt her. She didn’t care at all when she sent him off to die (it’s worth the risk) and he didn’t think it’d be any different now. Maybe he was wrong. It’s definitely her voice, he can hear it now louder than anything he’s ever heard.

“He’s in here!”

There is shouting and his eyes are barely open, he can see her rush in with people close behind. Well, he can see her upside down, he thinks with giddy delirium, a giggle threatening to leave his throat. Her eyes are wild and her hair is whipping around her face as she runs to him (there’s something I thought I’d never see) and he lets himself think something that he’s always tried to push down as far as he possibly can.

She looks like the sun.

Blonde hair everywhere as she calls his name, her hands struggling to unlatch him from his chains. His angel, maybe, the one person that can save him from everything. He tries to say something, her name probably, and she silences him quickly, telling him not to speak, to save his strength. There are others with her, he doesn’t know them or maybe he does and he just can’t remember. He closes his eyes, hoping to gain some of that strength back. But when he opens them again something is wrong.

She’s gone.

No longer in front of him, frantically pulling at the chains to get him down. Just a mirage, just a horrible hallucination, like a river in the middle of a desert. No one there to save him. No one there to take him  home. Just the upside down man swinging from the rafters. Tick tock, back and forth. Time doesn’t exist and neither does he. His eyes fall closed as he sways along to the music in his head, a sad tune written just for the upside down man. Now all he can do is wait.

He waits for her to rescue him.

She’s the only one who can.